Torian wanted to explore one of the houses, but trepidation settled in her chest. This space was empty, obviously abandoned. And yet, she couldn’t shake the fact that ghosts lived here, lurking in their old homes, prowling these parks.
“Just to see the tree,” Torian whispered. “Then I’ll go back to Moss.” She raised her voice. “I’m not staying. I promised someone I’d be back soon.”
Nothing replied, obviously.
Torian moved swiftly around this ring, too, until she found another stone corridor. Overhead, the sunlight was nearly gone, and darkness had settled on the dome, elongating shadows in intimidating ways.
Maybe she should turn back until she couldseeproperly again…
But the blue tree glimmered overhead, prettier than starlight, and it cast a quiet glow over everything. She drew a slow breath and plowed through the dark tunnel, focusing on the soft light at its exit.
The center ring—a veritable forest overseen by that massive blue tree.
It wasn’tjusta forest, on closer inspection. Vertical farming stations were thriving here. Alien food grew out of control, framed in pretty circles interspersed with trees. Six farming towers per circle, with stone paths between them. Water flowed from… somewhere… and the woods grew denser as she stepped deeper inside.
Something chittered overhead, and Torian flinched, spinning to stare through the needles of a coniferous tree.
A puffball of a creature stared back.
“Shit. Where did you come from?” Torian demanded, her heart racing. The creature had tiny black eyes and a long, furry tail that curled behind it—like a squirrel or chipmunk, but with shorter arms and more fluff.
It squeaked back, then vanished into the tree’s needles.
Dread settled in Torian’s body. Vaesa didn’t just have plants. There werecreatureshere, too.
How big did they get? This was clearly a residential dome, but maybe things had evolved, or they’d relocated certain species from Verdaan. They wouldn’t put anything dangerous in this forest, would they?
… Would they?
Fuck.
She backed away slowly. That little squirrel thing was cute, but the stuffed lion in her hands suddenly felt more menacing. She dropped the toy, unholstering her pistol instead. Would a jelly bullet stop a rampaging feline?
“Ahem,” someone said from behind her.
Torian yelped and spun, firing her weapon on impulse. Despite her best efforts, she wasn’tgoodat security. She’d been a much better fit for scrap than this kind of situation.
Torian didn’t see where her shot landed, but it would be useless anyway. She knew that, because she’d fired at a fuckingdraic.
Draics, with their diamond-hard scales.
Draics, with their wide, leathery wings.
Draics, with talons longer than her fingers.
A jelly bullet wouldn’t faze this alien. If anything, she’d just pissed off the nine-foot behemoth of a gargoyle approaching her. Though she normally responded with fight, not flight, a draic changed everything. Her entire body froze—everything except her mind, which was rambling in fear:
Fuck. I shot it. I shot at it! No, not it—him, because the females stay on their home planet, don’t they? And they’re bigger. And meaner. Not that it matters, because he could still clearly rip meto shreds. Do they drink blood? I feel like they drink blood. Wait. That’s a vampire—
The draic wasn’t privy to her panicked thoughts. He had dusty red scales, and his black-and-orange eyes slitted like a cat’s as he inspected his left arm, then ran sharp talons over the stone wall beside him.
“You almost shot me,” he snarled.
The draic language sounded like a boulder thundering down a mountainside, even as her translator shoved it into Torian’s native tongue. The result was a grumble-growl that truly sounded like a predator assessing prey.
Amelia had worked with a few draic mercenaries under contract with the Fleet—but she’d only workedagainstone once. She told the story to Torian in the dead of night once, pulling up her sleeve to show a ragged scar on one arm.His talons ripped through my skin like butter.
IfAmeliawalked away with that kind of scar,Torianwas definitely dead.
